Space is hardly the final frontier. But, for now, don’t you think we seem ambitious? Shooting arrows at the clouds could come back to shoot you in the head. Can’t you see that colonies on mars would become a new home for problems. Seems desperate. What do I know though, I'm Twenty-Five and I haven't even graduated college. But fears of failure make us see future where our planets long since dead. From that arrow to the head. Salvation relies on a new years revolution or something humbling like that. But wait, I shouldn’t write that here. Big Bro is always watching. I might find a man in black, tap-tapping at my chamber door. Not Lenore. Thats when you'll hear me saying, "Does anyone have a cigarette?"